MTM: The Mt. Kisco Public Library

We haven't had a real library in my town for far too long. We had a temporary library, which amounted to a few shelves of books in the community center, but that's not the same thing. And we're part of the Westchester County Library System, so people can go borrow books all over Westchester or ask to have them transferred in, but that's not the same thing, either.

Luckily, that's no longer the case. And the new library is really something. It should be, grumble some residents, given how much it cost to build. I wonder, however, whether those people are the kind who make use of libraries at all. If we only had to pay for the services we use, I wouldn't have to pay school taxes, which would please me to no end! And while it's true that no one was happy with the constant booming of the well-drilling for the 29 wells used to create the geothermal heating and cooling system, that's behind us now. (Having been to the library today, with the outdoor temperature in the "brutally hot" zone, I can testify as to the efficacy of that system.)

The new library has a silent study area, as well as rooms for children, teens (it's more highly soundproofed than the rest of the library, and made for them to socialize as well as study), community meetings and even little study carrels. Aside from the large community room, which also serves as a gallery, it has a medium sized conference room and two rooms where two to three people can work together in peace.

And, of course, there are the books.

Now, I should admit up front that I don't take many books out of the library. I am bad about that. I like new books. It doesn't make sense, really, considering how badly I destroy my paperbacks as I read them (I have no respect for the spines of paperbacks whatsoever), but I really don't like to read used books. I do, however, like to have them available to me. Today, when I went to the library, I was trying to work out a scene that has been giving me fits. I know some authors who handle this kind of thing well, so I grabbed a couple of their books and took them to the little study carrel with me. I didn't end up opening them, but their presence was comforting. I could have opened them. I could have looked at the POV changes.

There is one thing about the new library that really bugs me, though. Around the outer wall of the fiction floor, they have shelves of mystery (a set of shelves for hardcovers and a set for paperbacks), shelves of sci-fi/fantasy (again, one set for the hardcovers and another set for paperbacks) and a set for paperback romance.

Hardcover romance, you see, is something that the Westchester County Library System doesn't recognize as existing. Looking for Nora Roberts? You'll have to get her in general fiction. When I mentioned this to the lovely volunteer shelving the books, she said "we have to go by what the catalog for all of Westchester says, and they go by the publisher's codes." Really? REALLY? The publishers don't realize that Nora Roberts writes romance? That Catherine Coulter's readers won't be looking for her in general fiction? That Linda Howard fans are accustomed to shopping in the romance aisles?

And, on that same topic, why on earth are half of Bill Pronzini's books in the Mystery section while the others are shelved in general fiction, a couple authors up from Proust? This makes no sense to me. And the mystery section is pretty much strictly mysteries with a sprinkling of police procedurals. Most of the thrillers are in general fiction.

Now, I am not blaming this on library personnel. They do their jobs valiantly. But, seriously, shouldn't someone be thinking these things through? "Where are our patrons going to be looking for this book?" "All his other books are in Mystery, so let's put this there, too." "But the publisher code says this book is fiction." "Well, yes, but most people won't ask, they'll just assume we don't have it if it's not with the rest of his books."

I know, that's what the catalog is there for. It will tell me what's available and where it's shelved. But if I am just looking for a new mystery/thriller/romance author, it doesn't help to have them all shelved together. I can't wander through the entire fiction section picking up books and hoping to find a new thriller. And while I am grateful that they have paperbacks at all (some libraries don't, if you can believe it), it offends me that they don't have a hardcover romance section since they have sections (albeit odd ones) for other genres. How's a romance reader to find a new-to-her author? And the paperback sections are comparatively small while what's actually published in those genres is largely mass market PB, not hardcover.

If my current manuscript gets published, chances are it will end up in the small romance paperback section since it's romantic suspense. While it's lovely to know it will get exposure there because of the relative lack of competition, the seeming deliberate ignoring of business aspects--romances are popular, so your patrons will show up if you have them--is extremely frustrating. Right now, the library hasn't even had its grand opening. They're not set up to take donations or anything. But I have a feeling when they get that going, I'll be donating as many of my own paperbacks as survive my reading in good shape in order to bump up the quality of their romance section. After all, it's my library. I want it to survive.

My Town Monday is a weekly blog meme originated by Travis Erwin and now maintained at My Town Mondays, the blog.

Ten Stories Up

Literary cuteness via I Can Has Cheezburger

Forgive me, because I don't remember how I was referred to all these, and I always try to give a tip of the hat to the place I found them, but my link-keeping got slovenly.

1) In any case, I do remember reading about this "new" Agatha Christie story starring Hercule Poirot on Sarah Weinman's blog. Read "The Capture of Cerberus" at the Daily Mail here.

2) The San Jose Mercury News reprints Ruth La Ferla in the NYT who discusses how the economic recession is dimming the tone of chick lit. I suppose it's nice they bothered to notice, and I'm happy about the change, since I grew fatigued with the call-and-response of brand$ a while ago, though the article does contain this howler (emphasis mine):

And yet, even the most lurid accounts of conspicuous consumption have never been entirely escapist, says Mallory Young, the editor, with Suzanne Ferriss, of "Chick Lit: The New Woman's Fiction" (Routledge, 2005). "Chick lit usually responds through comedy to real situations confronting real women," Young maintains. Unlike romance novels, chick lit "recognizes and responds to the world outside," she says.

I know I mentioned going to a conference at- ahem- Princeton recently where sharp acedemics discussed, among other issues, how romance fiction (and I argue crime, too!) well reflects its time, adapting even faster than "non-genre" lit-rah-chure. If this editor thinks that so-called women's fiction is an entirely different species than those genres (and a necessarily superior one, of course) I say nyet.

3) The recession looks to have turned those stay-cations into greater traffic at living history sites. The Sun Inn is just one building, but complexes like Sturbridge Village are experiencing their best season in a decade. For (us) history fans, how's that for silver lining?

4) 3G speed developments and standardized book formats from Sony for their Daily Edition e-reader. Having better stuff available makes everything available better- bring it on!

BV Lawson is Waiting for YOU!

Our great friend (and darn good mystery writer) BV Lawson is giving away 5 free copies of CiCi McNair's memoir "Detectives Don't Wear Seatbelts."

So click on over to BV’s brilliant and highly informative blog In Reference to Murder and scroll down to her August 26th Post, in which BV tells us all about CiCi’s wonderful descriptions of her own adventures as a Private Investigator first in Miami and then in Philadelphia.

BV asks that you send her an email at the address listed in the blogpost by midnight Monday, August 31st. Be sure to include your name and snail mail address to be entered in the random drawing.

And you may recall that the Women of Mystery have mentioned in the past all the glorious links that are available on BV’s blog, so once you are there, snoop around. You are sure to find some helpful links that you didn’t know existed.

Terrie

Genre Meets Science- Never Wonder Again!

Image from Benjamin Crowell's CC physics text, Simple Nature.

SO many of us agonize and fret over which genre we fall into as writers and how best to classify our work for the marketplace. Just float the question at a hotel bar during a writer's conference, and it's like inviting your super-fan Uncle Phil to explain the history and morality of the designated hitter.

At last, we may begin arguing about BookScan figures and cover art again, because we now have a definitive analytic tool. The brilliant Rob Lopresti at Criminal Brief has provided the ultimate genre diagnostic checklist, provided your novel has a car crash. *

*If your novel currently lacks one, write up a quick chapter 11(A), purely for the scientific edification.

Style by Me

Last week, an ad for a new software program landed in my inbox. I'm not going to mention the program's name, but it's billed as English writing software that checks grammar, style, and spelling among other things, some quite complex and impressive.

My first reaction was "Hmm, where do I click?" because I'm a combination computer geek and sucker for anything writing related. My very quick second reaction, however, was "Ugh. Cowboys go preppy again."

I've been an editor since before PCs, since writers wrote on typewriters and editors edited with red pencils and erasers. I've been a writer even longer. After computers joined the cars in every garage and chickens in every pot, and software programs became available to help you do everything from check your spelling and format your screenplay to build your characters and plot out your entire novel, the writer in me was thrilled but the editor in me started worrying about my financial future. Not for long, though.

Back when I worked as a health editor for Kensington Publishing, my office neighbor was a fiction editor who handled some of the westerns we published. I'm still good friends with her, and every now and then she reminds me of the time the production department returned a cowboy manuscript to her. It had just come back from the copyeditor and she was to return it to the author for corrections. She did, but not until she took an eraser to the dang thang. It seems the copyeditor had not only checked spelling, tweaked punctuation, and fixed grammar, but she had also removed all of the author's personality and "corrected" the dialogue. Those Old West cowpokes now spoke like recent grads of New York City prep schools. Well shucks, m'am.

It took a while for the editors I know to stop worrying that they'd become obsolete. Even editors now rely on Word's spell checker, usually running it as their last step when working on an electronic manuscript. But they don't let it make any corrections automatically, and they sure as heck never let it make universal corrections. They still need to look at every suggested correction. If they didn't, you'd see a lot more "pubic health hazards" and "marital arts competitions." After all, "pubic" and "marital" are words, just not the right words here.

As far as grammar checkers are concerned, they're wrong as often as they're right, and sometimes more. Whether they're Word's built-in grammar checker or the expensive program in my inbox last week is irrelevant. If you don't believe me, run a grammar check on the last chapter you wrote. Some of the corrections it'll want you to make will be quite amusing.

And style checkers? No thanks. I may not craft sentences like Stephen King, describe a setting like Tony Hillerman, write dialogue like Elmore Leonard, or make you laugh like Janet Evanovich, but I do write like Elaine Will Sparber, and I think I'd like to keep it that way. After all, that's what sets me apart, makes my writing mine, will hopefully win me all sorts of awards someday. If I have to give up my personal style, I might as well just strap my laptop to the back of my saddle, adjust my chaps, and ride off into the sunset.

Image courtesy of Cowboy Clip Art.

Win a Scholarship to the Backspace Agent-Author Seminar in NYC

Two days of agent panels, workshops, and small-group meetings are at the heart of the upcoming Backspace Agent-Author Seminar at the Radisson Martinique (32nd and Broadway) in New York City on November 5-6, 2009.

Agent Colleen Lindsay has announced a contest to win a scholarship to the seminar (valued at $500), but the deadline to enter is rapidly approaching.

There are a few stipulations, however; you MUST have a finished novel (or narrative non-fiction manuscript) that is ready to query; the contest is open only to fiction (any genre, adult, YA or middle grade) and narrative non-fiction manuscripts. The scholarship covers admission to the conference only, not travel or hotel expenses.

The contest will be judged by agents Colleen Lindsay (FinePrint Literary Agency) and Joanna Stampfel-Volpe (Nancy Coffey Agency).

To be considered for one of the two scholarships being offered, you must mail your query letter and the first two pages of your finished manuscript (the same two pages that you want to have critiqued at the seminar) to Colleen at FinePrint Literary Agency (address, and complete rules can be found on her blog). Entries must be postmarked no later than September 4, 2009.

The winners will be announced on September 17, 2009.

Review the agenda and a list of faculty attending the seminar here.

Writing About Writing

I discovered a fascinating new blog the other day. It's called The Letter Project and it's letters from regular (or irregular) people like us to our friends about reading and writing. That's real, hardcopy letters. Not email.

The Letter Project was started by Theresa Williams at the Bowling Green State University in Ohio. To participate, you write a letter and send it, along with an addressed, stamped envelope, and a note about yourself, to her. She will mail the letter for you whether she uses it for the blog or not, and contact you with more info if she does decide to use it.

The letters are quite long and intricate, though Williams doesn't specify anything about length or level of insight in the instructions for the blog. I do wonder whether people really write letters like these any more unless they know they will be posted to a blog or some other forum for public consumption. My own writing is short to the point of being terse when I send email, and I haven't sent a handwritten letter in years. (Thank you notes, yes, but not letters.)

On the other hand, when I was in college, my father and some others and I were in a postcard-sending frenzy. We sent the most offensive and ridiculous postcards we could find. That, I do miss. Perhaps I will start sending cards and letters to my various nieces and nephews. They won't qualify for The Letter Project, but I think they'd like to get mail of their own.

If you decide to participate in The Letter Project, do let us know!

Two for Tuesday: Lies

I keep thinking that next time I write a book I’ll develop a one-line pitch before I start. If only it worked that way.

I doubt Ian McEwan had a pitch in mind when he wrote Atonement, but he might as well have had one: Thirteen year old playwright tells a story that sends an innocent man to prison. No wonder his novels end up on the big screen.

McEwan has won stacks of well-deserved literary prizes. But from the point of view of a genre writer, Atonement might be said to fall somewhere between bodice ripper and historical crime fiction. I plucked it off the shelf because I recalled him as a master of narrative drive. He is. Atonement certainly does not start with a hook, but if you allow the language to carry you through the unhurried beginning, you find him deftly propelling you toward an inevitable crime – a destructive lie that feels more violent than the rape of a child that occurs off-stage. Swept forward, you’re unable to put the book down. I couldn’t, anyway.

There are so many yummy passages in this novel that I’m hard pressed to choose. Here's one:

“So many seconds had passed – thirty? Forty-five? – and the younger girl could no longer hold herself back. Everything connected. It was her own discovery. It was her story, the one that was writing itself around her.”

One of mine:

“She couldn’t see back through the fog of time. Maybe the punishments had never happened. Her best friend believed she was lying. Maybe she was. Each time, the fury and flame and her pain became distant, and she forgot.”

What about you? We'll link to your Tuesday Twosomes throughout the day if you tell us where you've posted your work.

- Lois

MTM: The Sun Inn at Bethlehem, Pennsylvania

While I was in Bethlehem with family for the amazing Musikfest (deserving of its own post), I stopped into the main streets' historic Sun Inn. A group of Moravian missionaries founded the community of Bethlehem in 1741. The Moravians were a Protestant church formed in the 14th century in what is now the Czech Republic. Sometimes also called the Bohemian Brethren, they established a thriving economy of skilled craftspeople, attracting customers from Philadelphia, and known, therefore, to the people who would become critical to the movement for American Independence. The Sun Inn was built for these well-heeled visitors in 1758, and was one of the finest of its day.

The Gast-stube or "gathering place" was the room where guests relaxed and waited for the stage coaches. There are high back chairs in front of the fireplace which reproduce the original Lafayette chair (now in a museum) where General Marquis de Lafayette ate the inn's special rice cakes and recovered from a leg wound received in the Continental Army's 1777 nearby defeat at the Battle of Brandywine.

Not a walk-in closet, this is a walk-in fireplace. Clothing would occasionally catch on fire as cooks pulled hot coals from one fire to create other, smaller fires, each with their own trivets and pans cooking away. The original kitchen also had a butcher area in the back, and the Moravians designed a pumping system with hollowed logs to provide fresh, spring water to the community. This was one of the first such equipped inns in the country, and perhaps strangely, during the year of this modernizing in 1762, they were also adding shutters to the windows to protect from Indian attacks.

I liked the interesting design of this banister leading upstairs. Now blocked off, there were originally suites, each with two bedrooms and a sitting room. Not even Williamsburg had such generous accommodations. However, for more budget-conscious guests, there was the third floor option. Four large rooms each held four beds, and each bed slept four people, for a potential total of 56 people laid out upstairs, all sleeping head-to-foot.

The Sun Inn was twice the size of the Continental Hospital, so there's an impressive list of Revolutionary War guests recuperating and strategizing, including General George Washington and other military leaders, as well as Alexander Hamilton, John Hancock, Samuel Adams, John Adams, and seven other signers of the Declaration of Independence.

When the Sun Inn brags that "Washington slept here", for once, it's no shinola.

UPDATE: It's like some kind of mental block. I always forget to put the master My Town Monday link at first. Go read more!

Bananagrams!

I recently became addicted to a fast-paced, tons-of-fun word game called Bananagrams. This portable game, great for playing anywhere (you just need a table), requires no pens, paper, board game, batteries, or even a timer.

The game pieces, 144 lettered tiles, come in a small banana-shaped zippered pouch. Players turn the tiles upside down (this pile is referred to as “the bunch”), then count out the number of tiles depending on how many players. Any player can yell, “Split” and each player turns over their tiles and begins connecting and intersecting words.

Should a player find difficulty using a particular letter, that letter can be returned to the bunch; the player says, "dump," and must take three new tiles.

The first player to use all of their tiles yells, “Peel,” and everyone takes another tile from the bunch. When there aren’t enough letters for players to take anymore, the game is over, and the winner having used all of their tiles shouts, “Bananas!”

As you can imagine, there are many variations to playing this game (which come with the game and are listed on their website) or you can come up with your own. A group I played with came up with some interesting categories of words to include in each round, providing lots of laughs.

Bananagrams, which made its public debut at the London Toy Fair in 2006, has won many "best toy" awards, and was named 2009 Game of the Year by the Toy Industry Association. A list of the winners is here.

I found my game of Bananagrams, which sells for approximately $15.00, at the Learning Tower, an educational toy store in Port Jefferson Station, New York. It's available in a larger version, too. You can’t miss them, the bright yellow game pouches hang on a banana stand!

Amazon.com sells the game for $13.95.

Bananagrams is suitable for 1-8 players, ages seven and older.

The game has even inspired a book, Bananagrams!: The Official Book, available online at Barnes and Noble for $8.95.

Check out this YouTube video for a demonstration on playing Bananagrams.

Any game that encourages players to improve their word skills and consult a dictionary is a good one, IMHO.

How about you? What's your favorite word game?

Genre Writing

I was having a discussion with a a lovely woman who is the romance buyer at Posman Books the other day and we were talking about how genre fiction gets a bad name because so many people seem to associate it with, well, less-than-estimable writing skills. Fie on that, I say, as I know you all say also. Not only is there plenty of really well-written genre fiction out there, but I'd like to see those lit fic types write to the kind of deadlines many genre writers face.

As it happens, I'd just read the following paragraphs, which I give to you here to enjoy. They're from John Connolly's The Lovers. Connolly's work straddles the line these days between thriller and horror--two genres in which some people might say there's no real "literary" work being done. I didn't want to give them to you Tuesday for two reasons. First, they're way more than two sentences. Second, I didn't want my own sentences in the same comment or post as his!

I had asked their forgiveness for my failings, and I had taken all that I had retained of their lives—clothes and toys, dresses and shoes—and burned them in my yard. I had felt them leave, following the marsh streams into the waiting sea beyond, and when I set foot in the house again, the smell of smoke and lost things thick upon me, it seemed different to me: lighter, somehow, as though a little of the clutter had been cleared from it, or an old, stale odor banished by the breezes through open windows.

They were my ghosts, of course. I had created them, in my way. I had given form to them, making my anger and grief and loss their own, so that they became to me hostile things, with all that I had once loved about them gone, and all that I hated about myself filling the void. And they took that shape and accepted it, because it was their way to return to this world, my world. They were not ready to slip into the shadows of memory, to become like dreams, to relinquish their place in this life.

What particularly beautifully written works of genre fiction can you think of? Got any recommendations? In the realm of Fantasy, I always think of Guy Gavriel Kay, whose Tigana makes me want to give up writing because I can't possibly compete.

Forgotten Movie Friday: In Like Flint

"Where the bad guys...are girls!"

Mike Myers' Austin Powers movies are a popular pastiche of spy cinema. However, there is one particular secret agent to whom he especially owes his identity. That agent was Derek Flint, himself a parody, who first appeared in 1966's Our Man Flint, and in 1967's In Like Flint. If you haven't seen either of these, they're high-camp, but played straight, which makes them even more terrific.

Derek Flint (played by razor-eyed, long, cool James Coburn) has a former relationship with Z.O.W.I.E., the Zonal Organization for World Intelligence and Espionage. Added to his mastery of languages, combat, skydiving, race car driving, etc., he's a independently wealthy genius of scientific theory, meaning he makes his own dazzling gadgets, no Q for him. We begin this tale with a group of well-accessorized and lip-sticked women from the worlds of media, fashion, and beauty. These mavens are intent upon matriarchal world domination from space, and are brainwashing others from their exclusive spa HQ in the Virgin Islands, Fabulous Face.

They've already replaced the president with a surgically-altered actor, and have also replaced American astronauts with female Russian cosmonauts. Getting Flint's ex-boss Lloyd Cramden (played by Lee J. Cobb) out of command of the orbital space station by drugging him into a scandal with an operative named Honey Trap is their fatal mistake. Flint's been otherwise engaged, writing books and learning to communicate with his house-dolphin Eric while his three girlfriends plan how to busy themselves when he goes on his next Mojave desert expedition. But with Cramden's besmirching, Flint jumps into action!

Before we're done, there will be secret military bases and incinerators, the Russian ballet (where Flint earns a standing ovation with sometimes-Batgirl, Yvonne Craig), cryogenic freezing chambers, Cuban revolutionaries, bugged pencil cups, euphoric acid, Operation Smooch, and lots of lovelies swooning over Flint's irresistable irresistable-ness. It's all accompanied by a lush, swinging soundtrack by Jerry Goldsmith. If you listen to those samples alone, you'll picture the scene.

And it's tre groovy, baby.

More movies are up at Patti Abbott's place for Friday's Forgotten Books, now sometimes movies, and whatever the heck else she feels like!

Back to (Online) School

I can't believe we're approaching the end of August! We've still got a month of summer left according to the calendar, but Labor Day is just around the corner and my younger son heads back to class that same week. Sheesh!

If September puts you in the mood for learning, here are some online writing classes that might interest you.

The RWA's Kiss of Death Chapter is kicking off the new school year with two offerings:

• "Cybercrimes," a "Murder One" class, Eric Way, September 1-30, $15 for chapter members and $30 for nonmembers. How does encryption really work? Can someone steal all my financial information from my wireless connection? What does "https" mean and do I have to be a bank to use it? If you've asked yourself these questions, or you have a character in your story that has, this class gets you those answers. Instructor Eric Way has specialized in software security for over 15 years. During that time, he has developed secure applications and systems for the CIA and DOD as well as civilian agencies. He has also taught security classes to civilian and government employees, and brings his knowledge and experience to his own writing.
• "Cozy Is as Cozy Does," a "Killer Instinct" class, Luisa Bueler, September 1-30, $15 for chapter members and $30 for nonmembers. How does a traditional mystery become "cozy"? In this workshop, the author of the Grace Marsden cozy series discusses definitions, differentiations, and the development of the cozy as a subgenre. The topics include the development of the traditional-mystery genre; what it means to cozy up, cozy over, and cozy on down to the traditional-mystery genre; how characters need to be developed for the book to qualify as a cozy; setting; whether a supernatural or paranormal atmosphere is allowed or even encouraged; whose point of view rules in cozies and why; language; whether sex can or should be included; violence; humor; dialogue; pacing; and whether cozies can discuss social issues and stay cozy.

Writers Online Classes has two classes scheduled in September:

• "Creativity Journal," Mary O'Gara, September 1-30, $30. Writers capture characters, create stories, and solve plotting problems in journals. Writers also use journals to plan their careers and monitor their progress. We write in our journals at home and in public. We keep our journals in netbooks, notebooks, three-ring binders, and day planners. A journal is a writer's coach, therapist, and story machine. It may also be a writer's single most effective way to balance focused attention and curiosity. This workshop is a hands-on, working workshop with exercises and homework for a full month. You'll learn quick, easy ways to maintain a balance; increase both the quantity and the quality of your work; and juggle life, marketing, and writing more effectively. At the end of the workshop, you'll have flexible tools that you can use for years and adapt as your life and work change.
• "Introduction to Discovering Story Magic," Robin Perini and Laura Baker, Septermber 5-20, $30. When you're writing, do your characters become three-dimensional and alive? Do conflicts escalate within a tight, interwoven plot? Do your subplots and secondary characters deepen your story and broaden its scope? Do you know the bedrock truth underlying your story? Learn how to create this kind of magic every time you sit down to write. This introductory class to the acclaimed "Discovering Story Magic" course includes the full 21-page handout; lessons that walk you through the complete process; individual brainstorming on your story; the opportunity to learn as Laura and Robin assist others with their stories; and analysis of a movie.

Writer University is offering one class in September.

• "Sex Between the Pages: Understanding and Crafting Sexual Tension," Mary Buckham, September 1-28, $30. How do you write great sexual tension? That's the question Mary Buckham posed to romance writers such as Linda Howard, Stella Cameron, Susan Anderson, and Nancy Warren, known for writing great sexual tension from sweet to spicy hot. In this workshop, Mary combines the advice from these writers with a practical understanding of the 12 stages of intimacy (based on Desmond Morris's works) and recent findings by scientists on the amazing role biology plays in mate attraction and selection--findings that can be directly incorporated into the creation of powerful sexual tension on the page. The topics include sex versus intimacy; using conflict to increase sexual tension; the importance of details; how to portray body language; maximizing biological differences between the sexes; analyzing those who write sexual tension well; and exercises for your work in progress.

For a quick intro to online writing classes, click here. For additional information on the above classes and to register, click on the names of the venues and follow the links.

*Image courtesy of Clipart for Free.

Happy Birthday, Frank McCourt

Seventy-nine years ago today, Frank McCourt, the Pulitzer-Prize winning author of Angela’s Ashes, was born in Brooklyn, New York, the first-born of Irish immigrants Angela and Malachy McCourt.

In a previous post, "A Celebration of Frank McCourt," about a tribute which was held last month during the Southampton Writers Conference, I promised to write about my experience as a student in his memoir writing workshop, and that post will be forthcoming; today, however, belongs to Frank.

The Limerick Leader mentioned how former U.S. President Bill Clinton, who also celebrates an August 19 birthday, joined a McCourt family gathering shortly after Frank's passing, at Rosie O’Grady’s bar at 52nd Street in New York City, to reminisce about Frank.

According to the Irish Emigrant, a mass will be held tonight at 6 p.m. in honor of Frank, at the Church of the Holy Name of Jesus, 207 W. 96th Street, in Manhattan. Frank's brother, Malachy McCourt, will deliver the eulogy.

"A Birthday Tribute to Frank McCourt” will be held at 7 p.m. this Friday, August 21, at the Brookline Booksmith, in Brookline, Massachusetts. In addition to reading from Frank’s memoirs, writer Alex Newman, a friend and former student of Frank’s, will read excerpts from his unpublished writings about Frank, followed by a short Q & A session.

Malachy McCourt told the Irish Echo that a memorial service is scheduled for October 6, 2009, at Symphony Space on Manhattan’s Upper West Side. Symphony Space, a performing arts center, is located at 2537 Broadway at 95th Street.

For a special treat, you can listen to Frank addressing the Model UN students during their 2008 ceremonies on this YouTube video.

I'll end with an excerpt of a 1999 Academy of Achievement interview, Frank's thoughts on writing:

"I always wanted to write because for me it was magic to get a piece of paper and put words on it. As I'm always saying, to put words that were never before put together by anybody. To take two words that were never joined together like a "scintillating turnip." I would put words together like that just to keep the language fresh."

Happy first birthday in Heaven, Frank.

Two Sentence Tuesday: Brave Combo Edition

If you've never seen the band Brave Combo in concert, I urge you to do so as soon as possible. Sure, they've won tons of grammy awards for, of all things, polka music. And sure, you don't like polka music. But that's only because you haven't heard it the way Brave Combo plays it. Plus, where else are you going to get to hear a playlist that includes not only several polkas, but original music, rock, salsa, swing, jazz, country and even a twist from a thirty-year-old exercise tape? Plus, a rocking version of the hokey pokey. C'mon. Name me one other place you can get all that.

Last night, I went to see Brave Combo in Brooklyn. The first time I saw them was twenty years ago when I was the independent label buyer for a record store in St. Louis. Back in those days, they were on Rounder records, and I bought just about everything in the Rounder catalog, which is how I first heard them. When I lived in Texas, seeing them was easier, because they're a Texas band. (Which probably explains how a bunch of white guys can play such excellent Latin music.) While I was there, I picked up the latest CD, The Exotic Rocking Life, so my two sentences for this week come from the liner notes of that:

Our version of "Louie, Louie" follows a minor-minor-major chord pattern, not the classic major-major-minor progression. And it's a cha cha.

Really, I am pretty sure that tells you everything you need to know. My own two sentences are once again from the "book within the book" I described a couple of months ago.

My memories of that day are painted in shades of red from a deep, almost black burgundy to a bright and reflective vermillion. And no matter the shade, no matter the hue, the tints all smell of copper.

What about you? Read, write, do anything fun this week? Let us know and we'll update this post throughout the day.

And for fun, I give you this video of the Brave Combo video for the polka Flying Saucer (it was a tough call for me to decide between Flying Saucer and the Hokey Pokey, so you might check that out, too.):

MTM: Bridgeport Bluefish, Connecticut

We're baseball fans at my house, our hearts beating in time with Red Sox Nation, but those games are neither nearby nor cheap. So, one pleasant July evening, we decided to augment our fandom with some minor league ball, a great time that's totally reasonable.


Just up the road from us is Bridgeport, CT, where they began playing baseball just after the Civil War. Since then, many teams have come and gone, but after a fifty-year drought, they got a pro team again about a decade ago. The Bridgeport Bluefish are part of the Atlantic league, filled with largely journeymen baseball players. They're not in the farm system that feeds MLB, but they're way better than you (or me). The team plays at a friendly, modern facility called the Ballpark at Harbor Yard.

Arriving near game time, and paying the super-premium price of $12, we ended up behind the home team's dugout. The $7 bleacher seats were filled with families and large groups, and there was a decent turnout. Our view was great- my super perspective shot above makes the roof look more intrusive than it was. However, our knees were right up against the cement, and they do frown upon fans using the dugout roof to hold their beers, nachos, and fried dough. Row 2 is my recommendation.
An elevated train track goes past the outfield, which is neater than it might sound. There was slow moving freight and regional passenger trains. This empty MTA job paused alongside. See the conductor lounging in the doorway to catch the game? This wasn't the only train that stopped to spectate.
Sports venues try to keep the breaks between play entertaining. We had T-shirt slingshots, ticket number giveaways, and birthday singalongs. But instead of the pre-recorded sprints we've all come to expect, this hot dog race started as a cartoon on the jumbotron and culminated in live, foam clad hot dogs racing down the first-base line for glory. Bravo!
This is a back view of snaggle-toothed Bluefish mascot B.B. working the crowd, as he did all night. The girls up front are modeling samples from the emcee's funny hat collection. They were pulled up later to sing during the 7th inning stretch.

This epitome of the crusty baseball manager is also legendary leftie pitcher Tommy John, as known for his great career as for the surgery he underwent in 1974. He was the first pro athelete to have a bad elbow ligament replaced with tendon from elsewhere, and to return triumphantly to major league form. No matter what sport the athlete plays, when they get that procedure now, it's called the Tommy John surgery. Two days after this picture, he announced he was stepping down from the Bluefish manager's job. I hope it was nothing we did. He does look cranky.

Defeating the Somerset Patriots with a combination of tough pitching (when was the last time you saw a pitcher go all 9?) and home run heroics, the Bluefish win. Bluefish win!

Oops. I did it again. Forgot to put in the link to the My Town Monday blog HQ. Go there for more. Adios, and until next time, keep your fins wet!

Prairie Ghosts, Kindle Comix, and the Human Etch-A-Sketch

Were Laura Ingalls Wilder's books ghosted by her globetrotting divorcee daughter, magazine writer Rose? The Atlantic has an interesting article about the biography that didn't diminish the series or accomplishments for me-- the truth of the life is tougher than fiction-- but it did highlight how much difference a few decades can make.

Tumor is the first comic written exclusively for Kindle, and the details and rationale are on the oddly wide Central Comic Zone blog. I think it's a fantastic idea, and it gets me thinking about what I might do in this format, even if (especially having Kindle 1.0, not the wide DX), I'm not completely sure about the final product. I think they might have gone with an over-under panel arrangement which would've kept the text and images larger for us tiny screens, though I heartily appreciate that they didn't clog the page. I'm currently reading Kindle titles with lots of detailed illustrations of hieroglyphics, as one example, and it's a misery frankly. A coffee table book would serve me much better for perusing. The style used for this noir comic title is quite nice and simple enough to read visually. Better yet, the first issue is free on Amazon, and I want to say, nitpicks aside, the concept is brilliant and I look forward to more developments here.

A NY woman employs her strange physical condition, dermatographia, to create artworks like the floral design above. Drawing upon herself with blunted knitting needles, she is the human etch-a-sketch. I believe this is a patterning medium that even William Morris couldn't have conceived.

And the Winners Are . . .

Wow, so many great entries into the raffle for Margaret Maron's Sand Sharks! Luckily, I didn't have to pick based on the quality of the stories, all I had to do was draw from a hat. I wish we had more books to give away, but here are the five winners:

annthelibrarian
Carol
Gink
kdean
Sean

I'll try to contact you all, but if you don't hear from me, send me your snail mail addresses to laura.kramarsky [at] womenofmystery.net!

Forgotten Book Friday: Life Lessons by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross and David Kessler

In 2001, a few months after my 37 year old brother was killed in a motorcycle accident, my heartbroken mother found an audiobook in her local library called LIFE LESSONS: Two Experts on Death and Dying Teach Us About the Mysteries of Life and Living, by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross and David Kessler. Upon finishing the book, she insisted I listen to it -- Immediately.

I’m so glad that she did.

When Dr. Kübler-Ross, the world-renowned expert on death and dying, suffered a series of strokes, she moved to the Arizona desert to prepare for the end of her life. As her health improved, she realized her work was not done. She had written many books about death and dying; this time, she turned it around and wrote a book about life and living: LIFE LESSONS. The collaboration of Elisabeth Kübler-Ross and David Kessler (the author of THE NEEDS OF THE DYING: A Guide for Bringing Hope, Comfort, and Love to Life’s Final Chapter) was a natural one.

The book, published in 2000 by Scribner, contains fourteen chapters, divided into lessons of: Authenticity; Love; Relationships; Loss; Power; Guilt; Time; Fear; Anger; Play; Patience; Surrender; Forgiveness; and Happiness.

The chapter, "Surrender" includes the following passage:

“Many of us labor under the illusion that control is always good, that it would be dangerous to just let the universe take care of things. But is our control really necessary to the workings of the world? We don’t have to wake up early every morning to remind the universe to make the sun rise; when we turn our backs on the ocean, the universe doesn’t mess up and make the tide go the wrong way. We don’t have to remind our children to grow every year, hold seminars for flowers to explain how to bloom, or make sure the planets maintain their distance from each other. The universe runs this amazingly complex planet, with all its flowers, trees, animals, winds, sunshine, and everything else, quite well, yet this is the power we are afraid to surrender into....”

During a time of immense grief, this book explained the mysteries of life and death as no one had ever explained before. I felt so strongly about it, I ordered thirty-two copies of the paperback edition (including two large-print versions) on Amazon.com for Christmas gifts that year. I created homemade bookmarks that featured a photo of my brother and his five month old son, taken days before his death.

LIFE LESSONS allowed me to make sense of out the senseless, and put the tragedy into perspective in such a way that I could function after experiencing such a tremendous loss. I will never forget the comfort this book brought to me in the most desperate time in my life.

Elisabeth Kübler Ross, who touched the lives of millions, died on August 24, 2004. The month before she died, she completed another manuscript with David Kessler (ON GRIEF AND GRIEVING), which was published in 2005.

To read more Forgotten Book Friday posts, visit Patti Abbott's blog.

Just Decide Whether You Hate the Hat

I recently found this image from an old millinery book. I was looking, because it occurred to me that outlandish hats represent where I'm at with my writing. I think this may be a new developmental stage for me, like moving up from a crawl to a toddle. I'll spare you the emo stuff, because I'd laugh at myself pretending to be a misunderstood starveling in a pigeon-splattered garret. But on the cusp of a new book-length sprint, after many false starts, I believe I'm at the glorious point where it's a matter of readers just hating the hat.What I mean is this: My craftsmanship-- when I work at it, forget the transitory messes I leave here, as I try to -- is good enough to bear up the story. Sometimes, it's better than merely that, often worse, but when I revert to the norm, my average prose isn't sucky. I've read all the syn-tactical, grammatical, and structural lists of To and Not To-dos. I've internalized what rules plaster over my especial weaknesses. I don't like others or can't use them. I have my reasons.So now, it's not whether I can stitch a brim or shape a crown that we're arguing, it's whether you agree it was a good idea to put peacock feathers above the veil in the first place. Each of these hats is a complete statement. Whether minimally tailored or elaborately decorated, designed to allure through concealment or to be the punctuating halo on the saint, each represents a complete expression of style and intent.

I think that at a later stage of writing development (oh, how I hope that's where I am), the individual pieces can't be much parsed anymore. I'm not against editing. I benefit from it too much to be opposed. However, while details may be refined or improved by half-inches to the left, these revisions won't change the essential character of the overall concept. Once a writer reliably exercises his craft and resigns himself to choosing from the menu of his own fascinations, the final product has to be taken or left in toto. To the new reader, it's either a worthwhile idea or an entire waste.

I've given up trying to produce a manuscript like a pressed aspirin, conforming enough to the shape of previous doses that mine will be welcomely swallowed. I wish I could do it; I tried. It seems like an excellent prescription for a long career, and I don't disparage anyone who's making themselves and their readers happy. However, I haven't been able yet to purge my work of its eddying strangeness. I have to accept what's my longest suit and discover whether readers enjoy me drawing them a fat royal flush of it.

It's a relief to feel my bigger projects may finally be cohesive enough be accepted or discarded whole, not shredded into rag piles for picking over later. Like any other readers, industry professionals have to make their best calls, and if this one's "not for you," I'll just write another. You may decide you like another of my notions better, but leave my ball-fringe and faux-wings alone.

UPDATE: Some of you commenters and blogpals are so nice to me, which I appreciate very much. However, I truly want to know whether this attitude (or something like it) is a phase you recall going through.

In the comments, Charles Gramlich reminded me of this related beast. The perfect pet by committee, courtesy of The Sun.